Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. ‘You don’t even know what it means, do you?’ Melusine frowned. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. Tickle the ears of their reverences with any idle nonsense you please: but tell them nothing you care to have repeated.
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